


Alone in the Night

by Merfilly



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: M/M, Telepathic Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-31
Updated: 2007-12-31
Packaged: 2017-12-14 07:58:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/834536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>J'onn is falling away from humanity, and he knows how he could fix it. Only... can the other person allow it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alone in the Night

J'onn contemplated the stars through the viewing bay with a mind toward encompassing the infinite stretches of nothingness. It was a good mental discipline, to remind himself how truly lonely each star was in its expanse, a way of warding off the pangs of loneliness he still felt.

Sometimes, he truly envied Kal-El the fact of arriving at this world, as nothing but a small child, memories unformed.

His eye tracked out toward Saturn's current location, thinking of the two races on that long-ago founded colony. He wondered how J'emm and Ch'arissa were, wondered why he had not remained there among the children of Mars.

Why had he returned to Earth? With all the misfortunes of his past, all the fear and suspicion, what made him turn his back on the closest thing to his race still in existence.?

The sound of laughter came to his ears, as Wally and Kyle walked through, sharing a story that was no doubt at the expense of the Titan, Arsenal. Or perhaps, about Donna Troy. Either way, it was the laughter of bonds shared, and pushed the loneliness a little more forward in J'onn's mind. 

“Batman to Martian Manhunter.”

With three words, pitched low and soft in deference to J'onn's greater senses, the loneliness pulled away, leaving anticipation of camaraderie. Of all the League not on his original team, J'onn felt the greatest kinship to Batman.

Because of all the other League members, only Batman seemed to truly know the depths of being alone in a world where he did not fit.

“Here, Batman.”

“Join me for a briefing?” The upswing of the note, inviting rather than commanding, was a concession of their longtime friendship. Even Kal-El often got a more brusque command voice.

“I am on my way.” The graceful alien unfolded from his meditative stance and left the observation deck. 

`~`~`~`~`

After the third attempt of Eel to try and get a laugh out of J'onn, Bruce decided it was time to intercede. The reformed small-time crook had good material, and could generally cheer up anyone, but J'onn of late...

Bruce didn't want to term the air as 'melancholy' or 'depressive'. J'onn was too mature for such emotional buzzwords.

He did not seem himself, was what Bruce finally termed it, and made his way over to the large alien.

“J'onn? A moment?” he inquired, leading the acquiescent man away from Eel. In some ways, it rang of old times, with one of them saving the other from Booster and Beetle.

In others, it felt too needed to bring back fond memories. He led J'onn into an empty conference room, turning to look at his long-time friend.

“J'onn, you've seemed preoccupied. Is there something I can help you get to the bottom of?” Bruce offered. “You know that you are not alone, that I am here, like your other friends, to help you.”

“You are a busy man, a point you constantly point out to the team.” J'onn almost apologized, as his words felt churlish and unkind, but Bruce took them in stride, inclining his head.

“If you have something that you can't solve, or something you don't understand, I can spare the time to you.” Bruce did not hesitate to offer his abilities to the Martian. The man had been an invaluable friend, standing in for various members with dual identities, putting himself in harm's way for anyone of them, and generally filling in so deftly across the team's needs, that they all tended to take him for granted.

“I understand plenty about the situation I am contemplating, Bruce. And, it is mindful to remember, not all things can be solved.” J'onn regarded the private man in front of him and offered a slight easing of the emotional darkness between them, a faint smile coming up to set Bruce's mind at peace.

“Some solutions can't be seen until other eyes see the problem,” Bruce reminded him. “You know how to get me, if you change your mind.”

There was a momentary emotion that filtered through the eyes of the alien, before he nodded, turning to go.

He would never admit to himself, let alone Bruce, that the crux of the matter was just that: how to get to Bruce.

`~`~`~`~`

It was a difficult thing to endure some of the League meetings. Today was no exception, as Kal-El droned on about the reasons they could not get involved in the war that was brewing in the Middle East. Kyle and Wally were arguing opposite sides of the debate on where their responsibilities lay. Eel, thankfully, was being fairly quiet, mostly due to a disinterest in the topic. Diana and Bruce were...

Close. His lips at her ear, speaking of something. She was watching Kal, but nodding to what Bruce was saying to her.

J'onn found himself looking away, before he rose, interrupting Kal's speech.

“We've tread this ground more times than I care to think of, considering the human penchant for trying incessantly to kill themselves off in one fashion or another. Our charter, approved by the United Nations, is clear. We cannot be involved, and any member not of one of the nations involved that intercedes would be found in contempt of that charter and remanded to UN courts. Stop beating the issue into the mud!”

With that outburst, delivered in harsh, sonorous tones, the Martian swept out of the chamber, his will to participate evaporating in a wave of emotion he scarcely knew the name for.

His teammates watched the door seal behind him, then turned to view one another in confusion.

“Bruce?” Kal asked, more meaning in one name than just inquiry.

“I do not know.” The admission pained the Dark Knight far more than he cared to dwell on. “Kyle, he's been close to you of late.”

The artist nodded slowly. “He's been around a lot, but, honestly, I have no clue. I mean, I know we've been hashing this out a lot.”

“Greenie's got a point though.” Plasticman actually sounded serious. “If all we can do is remind ourselves it would be illegal to get involved, why do we keep talking it over? Seems to me like we're just rubbing salt in open scratches. Pretty hard on the last survivor of a race that gave up warfare already.”

Wally flushed, as he realized he had been the biggest culprit for pulling the topic up. “Yeah, but normally J'onn just points out the Charter. This time he jumped on our race as a whole.”

“Maybe he has something else bothering him,” Diana offered. Her soft observation filtered in through Bruce's own musings, and he nodded.

“Don't take what he said too hard,” Bruce finally commented. “Even he has bad days.”

“Let's hope it passes soon,” Kal said. “We can't be effective if the heart of our team is that off-balance.”

`~`~`~`~`

The observation deck was without lights, the Earth's glow providing the sole illumination. The levitating figure, all spines and hard angles, was clearly visible in front of that glow, though the head was tilted at an angle that implied far more distant sights than the azure world. A slight shift in the body let the intruder know he had been identified, that his intrusion was not interrupting meditation.

“You've been off-stride, lately, J'onn,” Bruce said. He did not let the quietly indignant look his way throw him off, and held a hand up to forestall any arguments to the contrary. “I'm here as your friend, to try and get you to open up and let someone help you, J'onn, not as a team member worrying about the team functioning.”

“With you, Bruce, they are one and the same.” 

Those words, delivered in a tone of tired acceptance, set Bruce back. Was that how J'onn, the man he had shared one difficult League leadership tour with saw him? Was he really that cold, in the alien's eyes? That friendship and ability were all rolled into one thing?

Something of his mental questioning must have leaked out, because J'onn suddenly shifted, flowing into the more familiar form he kept for the peace of mind of their less tolerant teammates. The large green hand that came up and gripped his shoulder offered warmth.

“I am sorry, Bruce. That was uncalled for.”

“But true, in your eyes?” Bruce pressed, wanting to know if Martians were given to hyperbole when in emotional ruts. The solid gaze that came down on his eyes confirmed what the human had known. J'onn would no more lie in a casual statement than in a briefing.

“You are dedicated,” J'onn said instead of any reassurances that most humans would have rushed to give. He squeezed the shoulder lightly and turned to leave the deck, knowing his words had, in their own way, upset the one man he least wanted to at this point. Bruce grunted at the vague compliment, then looked down at the Earth as J'onn made his exit.

//It's not true...with you.// He knew his shields were too tight for that to seep out, but he looked the way J'onn had gone anyway, one step in that direction... before turning and going to check the monitor duty logs.

`~`~`~`~`

He could feel so much life around him. It was the middle of the evening, with people rushing to and fro, leaving work, going home, going to eat, going to be with families.

John Jones felt isolated, removed, hidden from them all.

He rarely ventured out in this face anymore. Not since the DEO and Cameron Chase had taken its anonymity from him, not since his deadly brother had used it to his own ends.

But he still felt an attachment to Middleton, to the guise of the human detective he had taken on to be one of the city's finest. Turning that over to private investigator should have protected the ones he called friends. More, it should have protected him from this loneliness he now endured.

He looked at the diner he had eaten in so many times. He started to go in, as he was, but Mildred always watched the news. He didn't dare show John's face in there. And if he ordered what John normally would, Mildred would know.

He didn't care to learn what Mildred thought of serving shakes and fries to an alien all those years.

He looked up, the stars so dim with the skylight of Middleton to obscure them. He felt their pull, felt it more clearly than he had even on the Tower.

Maybe living among humanity for over half a century was enough. Maybe, like Arthur, he had finally learned that there was no place for him, that he was not intended to be a part of this world, merely an observer.

He paused in his walk as the faint sounds of a child crying filtered through the crowd noises. He could hear her, but somehow he did not think any of the callous people around him, caught up in their busy lives, could. He closed his eyes, following the sound mentally, until his mind placed the crying as being in the park. It was dark. Why was a child alone in the park at this hour?

He let himself be pulled that way, going to the sound of the crying. As he did, he kept his senses fully alert, as this park was often home, after dark, to the gangs of children who had nowhere else to go, and no purpose in life but to torment others for entertainment. He approached the child carefully, once his eyes had spotted the girl, noting she was rooted to the spot she had chosen, casting her eyes one way and then the next, trying to decide where to go. He made a decision, and shifted down to the useful form of Goldy, his reporter for the tabloids. Women, he had discovered, were generally less frightening to children in need.

“Hello, little one,” she called to the girl, ten paces out. The child turned, folding her arms tighter around herself, but she sniffled and a shred of hope entered her eyes.

“Not s'posed t' talk t' strangers,” the child whispered.

“Well, I'm Miss Goldy. And you are?”

“Cindy.”

The name struck a hard blow to the loneliness he had been mired in. Cindy Reynolds, his very own pride on the League they had run from Detroit. Gypsy. Like a daughter to him in so many ways. 

“Cindy, do you know where your parents are?”

The girl looked up and nodded. “Home.”

“Why aren't you?” For a moment, the Martian's anger grew against any parents so negligent.

“I runned away.”

That clarified things nicely. “Why did you do that, Cindy?” Goldy knelt in front of the little girl. 

“Because mama and papa and Billy are so busy and I wanted to play with them but they said not now and I went to find someone to be my friend and let me have someone to play with.” She sniffled. “Only there's no one here in the park like when I come at the day and now I'm scared cuz I can't r'member where my house is.” She looked at Goldy hopefully. “Do you know where my house is?”

Goldy 'peeked' into the child's mind, seeing a suburb that looked vaguely familiar to him, and nodded. “I think I do.” She opened her arms to the child, offering to carry her, and was suddenly enfolded in tiny arms and being clung to by the shaky little girl. Goldy stood, careful and slow, and started walking out of the park, trying hard to cherish this moment, to let it give her the precious memories of holding K'hym, as she went to reunite the family.

Perhaps, like Cindy, J'onn was dodging things too much, and the call of the stars was no more than an attempt to run away.

It would bear considering, when he returned home to meditate.

`~`~`~`~`

Bruce leaned back in his chair, hearing the door from above open, and the measured footsteps of Alfred.

“Master Bruce, you have a guest above.” 

“At this hour?” Bruce asked in concern, half-rising. 

“It is one of your other business associates.”

“Ahh.” He was momentarily confused that someone would have come to the mansion rather than use the transporter into the cave, and went upstairs to see why.

When he saw John Jones in his study, he thought he might understand. This was not a matter for costumed identities, not if J'onn was ready to unburden himself. Bruce vowed to be there, to be the friend, not the teammate, the friend he wanted J'onn to see him as.

“Bruce.”

“J'onn.” His use of the proper name gave the Martian leave to shift, becoming the hybrid form Bruce was more accustomed to dealing with. “What brings you here tonight?”

“A need.” J'onn cut himself off, as Alfred arrived with cookies and milk. He looked at the Englishman in deep gratitude as the cookies were placed between he and Bruce, and Alfred gave him a warm smile in return.

Once the older man had left the room, Bruce looked at his friend. “A need?”

J'onn tried to find the English words, to make Bruce see just what it was he was going through. His race was a telepathic one. Everyone had been connected to a greater mind, a shared consciousness, without the loss of individuality. With rare exceptions, since his race had died, victim to H'ronmeer's Curse, his mind had reached into hollow emptiness. 

“Show me...” Bruce had moved around the desk while J'onn searched for the words, setting down on the arm of the chair filled by the massive alien. His blue eyes sought the red ones of his friend, as he tried hard to show how willing he was to be there for J'onn.

“That is the crux of the matter, Bruce. It is the lack of telepathic contact, the lack of a shared mind, that is driving me to this state I have found myself in.” J'onn reached up, touching Bruce's temple. “The link I give to all of our team, to let us share communication is but a very small fragment of what I can do.”

“I know this,” Bruce said. “I've felt your thoughts before.”

“But I have none with whom to share this with, at all times. And I am beginning to feel the effect of being cut off, alone.” J'onn drew his hand back, looking away.

“I meant it, after the battle on the moon, what I said about you being alone.” Bruce's voice grew hard, scolding in some ways.

“There is physical presence, which heartens humanity to a large degree. And yes, it has helped, these last several years.” J'onn looked up, out toward the window's vista. “And then there is the touch of the mind, where all Martians dwell from infancy.”

“I thought you and Arthur...”

“That is...was of some comfort for a long time. But there are inherent differences between us that make it sit hard, over the top of my mind, like an intrusion.”

Bruce thought about it, and nodded. “It would be like having a White Martian as your contact. The differences in your species went down into the core being of who you are.”

“Exactly.” The Martian looked back at his friend. “I need to find someone willing, capable of accepting me in this fashion, or I need to leave Earth, seek out J'emm's people, and see if there, I might find a home.”

Bruce's sharp intake of breath was the clearest sign that J'onn's words had struck a deep chord in him. “You have a home!” The human reached out, resting his hand on J'onn's shoulder. “Clark...Diana?”

“Clark's way of thinking is too willing to see the good to accept the harsh reality and honesty of such a bond. Diana...though her own telepathic ability with the tiara is refreshing, she is, like Arthur, too alien to my innate beliefs.”

Bruce nodded. “True.” He met J'onn's eyes again as he reached the deduction, the one that should have been obvious. “Me?”

“You have a strong mind, you share my beliefs in many ways, have never criticized the efforts I was forced to make in regards to my white cousins or to my brother...” J'onn began, but faltered, reading the concern in blue eyes. “You are, and have been, the best friend I have possessed on the League for some time now. I find that I care...and have known that since before you saved my life after the moon.”

Bruce shifted, considering it, weighing it with the grave seriousness he was given to. They had many things in common. J'onn knew so much of his past, and he of J'onn's. This would be the ultimate sacrifice, though, for Bruce. To let one person in so fully.

“There is one more thing...”

“What is it, J'onn?” Bruce asked quietly.

“I offer myself to you, this thing between us, as a way to ease your loneliness, as much as mine.” The alien reached up again, but this time, he touched Bruce's face. “Since Dick chose to walk his own way...you fall away from us so easily, you have no one you let in...but I would be as much your bond mate, as you would be mine.”

Bruce nodded, closing his eyes to the gentle touch from a man nearly as strong as Diana. “What do we do, to do this bond?” His words carried all his acceptance, as the last of his doubts faded. It was J'onn, and there was too much between them to deny this, and risk losing him forever to the stars.

“Merely...open your mind to my touch.”

This was truly the point where all of Bruce's resolve, to open up and let the Martian enter his mind so fully was tested. Bruce had to admit the rightness of J'onn's assessment of him. Without Dick, he had grown far colder, more distant, leading to J'onn being unable to see where Bruce regarded him as a friend, separate from a teammate. Bruce knew, somewhere deep inside him that he did not want that distance for the rest of his life. He also knew, outside of Dick Grayson, who did need his own life, that he would not trust anyone quite so much as J'onn, not on so intimate a level.

Bruce pressed against the node that had been in his mind since the first time the League had used telepathic links through J'onn to communicate. He felt it flare, felt it open up into a wealth of experiences that would take time to fully understand, to accept as being part of him. The joys, the sorrows, everything J'onn had known in such a long life came to him. As it did, he knew that his own experiences were flooding J'onn, giving him an anchor in humanity that mere observation had not granted.

As Bruce felt those other, new-old parts settle into his mind, he realized he had shifted, and was resting his forehead to the beetled brow of his ... there was a Martian word, able to be felt but not pronounced by Earthly throats. Bondmate would suffice for now. He slowly drew back, and realized, under it all, under the offer, the magnetism of their long friendship, that a very human emotion lurked.

Bruce wondered, as he studied his own emotions, if J'onn even knew the love that lay between them for what it was.

`~`~`~`~`

It was the second time Bruce had come home injured, and J'onn was there, that Bruce truly wondered what they had done in forging the bond between them. Yes, it gave J'onn an anchor, a closeness he achingly had needed, but it also meant J'onn worried over him, knew when he was hurt more strongly than ever before.

"You should have chosen Diana or Clark..." he tried to tease, but they had gone over that. It was Bruce that the Martian soul had cried for, Bruce that had felt right, and all protests of mere human lifespan fell by the wayside.

"You worry how I handle your mortality," J'onn said, with the bluntness of pure honesty in their minds.

"Yes."

For answer, J'onn traced the injury he had just treated. "Your mortality makes me cherish the time I have with greater care."

That seemed to be all either of them needed to say on the matter, before Bruce turned to his case notes, and the Martian left for other parts.


End file.
